There was a night on this tour when I ended up out on my own and found a little bit of quiet. On a long and empty road through Idaho, I had parked on a dirt embankment. I sat on the hood of my car strumming my guitar and staring at the stars in the wide open sky. It was past 3:00 in the morning and I hadn’t seen another vehicle in a long time.
The world was still. I was the only thing moving in it, I was the only man-made sound--so, I stopped. I joined the stillness, let my guitar strings rest, let the soft purr of the night vibrate through me. Here I was, Solitary Man, in tune with the universe, a body at rest.
What was I out there searching for? Why had I run? These are questions we can’t answer ourselves when we are in action. If a man points a gun at me, and I spring on him, disarm him, take away his threat, you can’t ask me why I am doing what I am doing while I am in motion. You can only ask why I did it once it is over. And though there is an obvious answer--to protect my life--there are more ways to phrase the question. As in, “Why would you be so dumb to risk getting shot rather than passively accept what your attacker may demand of you?”
My answer: Because if I do nothing, I admit that I am scared. To do something is to pretend that I am not.
I am more scared of accepting my fear than I am of being hurt. Standing still is only something to do after the threat is removed.
So, what’s it mean when you stand up, fall, and then retreat?
Well, sometimes you just have to cut your losses.
(read The Everlasting)